Commemorative Poem

Commemorative Poem

Bob Boocock’s our Pedaltour leader
He knows he must set the metre
He gives us directions for varied connections
Then tutors each riding non reader

There was a blond bombshell named Claire
Who all thought exceedingly fair
She sped to the crest and bested the best
While waving the van on without care

Now our energy buff Wally has flair
And he rides up front like a bear
He searches for sources to power world horses
But we think he should just harness Claire

Now Art is a bike Friday man
Who rides tough, then climbs in the van
He travels with cheer as long as there’s beer
Preferably one for each hand

Kathleen goes at light speed all day
And litigates while on the way
She pedals for fun, but gets the job done
Each day is a new chance to play

The hills were designed just for Bill
This Tazzie stuff gives him a thrill
He was ahead of the pack, til the bugs did attack
Then the van had our man–poor bill

John charts the stats daily with glee
No slouch at hill climbing is he
He proves he can do it, just rides right on through it
And discourses on issues for free

Dick daily regales us with stories
Of places and deeds in his forays
He rides when he can, then rides point in the van
Checking for Ann on her sorties

Ann pedals from dawn until dusk
And says it’s Tasmania or bust
She’s last but not least, always gets to the feast
A tour with our Ann is a must

Leni blazes the trail so we know
Clearly the right way to go
We know she will stop before we all drop
And join us in the van as we go

Fran and Sid ride together you know
For 32 years as they go
They’ve been seen in the rain, on steep hills and the plain
And on the coast in “a bit of a blow”

Here’s to Peter and Tammy come lately
Who increased our pace so greatly
We followed with dread, though they still stayed ahead
While pedaling those hills looking stately

Tom challenges the fastest of riders
And snaps scenes for all of our bikers
He carries a tripod, and I’ll bet an IPOD
And he’s even a pretty fair hiker

We found it so marvelously dandy
To ride with our friend named Sandy.
She smiled through all weather, And held it together
To ride in for her chocolate candy.

Now Damian we asked to advise
About hills he called “a wee rise”
These large undulations are not cause for ovation
Our legs they are burning from churning and churning
I’m patting my head til I know I’m half dead
Please cut that wee rise down a size